


Stars Beneath the Seas

by William_Magnus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:26:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/William_Magnus/pseuds/William_Magnus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fantasy tale told in however many parts it takes with no scheduled cause it will get added too as I am inspired.  There will be violence, and young love, and cliches, and magical creatures, and M/M love and anything else I feel like adding.  This is the only warning I give because life gives no trigger warnings and safe spaces so fiction should not either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where to begin

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

All great stories start somewhere. Long before that first line in the book, before the opening swell of orchestral music, and even before the author first puts pen to paper they start. Or, at the very least, some other story spins in some way to start the tales that have yet to come.

Knowing this, William was paralyzed unsure where to start. 

He could begin with his entrance into events, and keep his tale to what he knew for sure or could be at least reasonably sure of having heard it at the least second hand from those involved. He could stretch back to the very beginning threads of what would lead to the tale he wished to tell cover all the events that would lead too and shape the lives and personalities involved and even cover the rise and fall of great kingdoms whose remnants he passed through on his way to glory or....yes that would be the way. He would start with the simple opening line that would draw the reader in and encourage them to follow his friend and protagonist on his journey.

The scratch of quill on parchment, accompanied only by the faint crackle and pop of a hearth fire, was all that could be heard as William started to recount what he felt was the next great tale to be told.

"That musty, deep, rich smell of paper and ink never failed to relax Evan and put him in mind of better times."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work in progress, will be adding to this chapter later and adding to the work as a whole in whatever order bits come to me

That musty, deep, rich smell of paper and ink never failed to relax Evan and put him in mind of better times. Not that, to him, there had been many better times. 

He had been raised in the Guild since the day his parents had died when he was three. He had no memories of them save for the stories told by their many friends as they passed through the guild's main complex over the years and to him his teachers and the other guild children taken in were more his parents and siblings than anyone whom he shared blood with.

Only those closest to him still teased him over his bookish ways, and that only the guild Librarian himself seemed to treat books with more care than Evan, despite him being among the Warrior trainees in no small part because of his demonstrated skill with the sword. 

A dangerous madman surrounded by flashing blades of death he may be on the battle field, Even was as always a gentle soul elsewhere more likely to calm his nerves by reading than any other way. which is why on the eve of the Harvest Holiday he found himself in one of the least used parts of the keep his mind lost in the tales of some bygone hero steadily wondering what the constant rhythmic drumming had to do with subduing a dragon.

That is, until he realized that the drumming was not a part of his book, nor was it in fact the sound of drums. The sound was in fact the sharp thwack of wood on wood, one he knew well enough from his earliest days of training before they allowed him to even touch a real sword. 

Curiosity peaked he used a small thin strap of ribbon to mark his place in his book and started to follow the sound to its origin. What he found there was both an answer to his question and the seed of many more that he was sure would take him some time to slake his curiosity. 

It was a training room left disused because because of the preparations for the holiday, and likely little used otherwise because of its remoteness, that held at the center a training poppet. Made mostly of wood the training device was fashioned to look like a person with all more important targets on it painted so as to help teach those facing it where best to strike if and when they ever face a living opponent.

Facing the device, was a youth perhaps a little younger than Evan stripped to his waist spinning a quarter staff sized to fit his use in a way meant to keep living opponents distracted and unable to be sure of where he will strike next. The other young man had hair that fell to his mid back and was mostly a color of deep crimson that even the best paint makers were rarely capable of creating mixed with streaks of yellow and orange that made it look as much like fire as one could manage. So distracting was the unnatural hair, even could not believe such and effect was possible without magic even with the best of dyes let alone think anyone could be born with such hair, that he failed to take in other details about the man before him until he darted forwards to begin a series of rapid fire strikes on the dummy. 

The other man had a deep olive tan rarely found even among the farmers and laborers of the Cyndrill Empire and slanted almond eyes that marked him as an auslander, one from one of the far away kingdoms that received far more sun than Evan's cooler homeland. It was those eyes, green and bright as the emerald hills of the territories that the keep sat on that were Evan's undoing.

He was lost in those eyes a good while before he realized that the sound of the staff hitting the training dummy had stopped, that the other young man had ceased moving and that he was being watched almost if not as intently as he was watching staring at the other youth.

**Author's Note:**

> Lines used from other sources belong to their respective owners.
> 
> Everything else is mine. 
> 
> I love comments, encouragements, and constructive criticisms. Pointless discouragements are, by nature, pointless.
> 
> I have all the rules and most of the history of this world worked out already, it is what is to come I have no idea about till it happens. I can't wait to find out as much as you.


End file.
